


Reunion

by redtrouble



Series: Demonheart: Through the Eyes of Sir Brash [11]
Category: Demonheart (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 04:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15210875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtrouble/pseuds/redtrouble
Summary: Sir Brash reunites with Bright in Crows. Rated E for mature language and explicit sex.





	Reunion

Sir Brash was familiar enough with Crows to easily find his way to one of the less-trafficked inns. He rented a room, got out of his armor to avoid drawing further attention to himself, and changed his sweaty tunic for a clean, midnight blue one made of silk. He didn’t even bother tucking it in as he headed out into the streets to look for the firehair.

Part of him was uneasy. Doubting. Would she even show up? How long would he wait for her— _could_ wait for her? Had she survived her encounter with the goat boy? Was she being held prisoner in Inferno? Brash nervously flexed his fingers as he moved down the cobblestone road. It was more than just the possibility of her being in danger that made him anxious. There could be another reason she might not show up...

What if she had figured out he wasn’t worth her time? That she didn’t love him at all? Or maybe she never had and was telling him what he wanted to hear to make it easier for herself.

Brash tried not to let his morbid thoughts dampen his mood but wading in the uncertainty reminded him of bitter days. _It was stupid_ , he had told Bright when he explained to her about the whore he had tried to kill himself over back when he became a demonheart, but the rejection was like a deep-seated splinter he couldn’t dig out. It was stupid alright but…what if?

People milled here and there and Brash slipped between them slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for a glimpse of red hair. Crows was busy enough but one of the quieter cities, muted colors and emotions. She would stand out here—would stand out anywhere. But would she come?

Brash froze when he saw a flutter of red, waiting in pulse-thundering silence for the crowd to thin. And there she was, looking this way and that, her hair all tangled up. She came. She was alive and safe, and she came. He smiled. When she started to turn in his direction, he ducked behind the nearest wall. Part of him wanted to see the joy on her face at the sight of him but a larger part wanted to sneak up on her, to tease her a bit.

So he peeked around the corner, waited for her to put her back to him, and crept out from his hiding place, quickly and silently closing the distance between them. He slipped his arms around her small waist no longer burdened with armor, relished her squeak of surprise, and buried his nose into her hair. She smelled like sandalwood.

“Now, now,” he purred, “what do we have here? You’re a long way from Feline, little kitten. Are you lost?”

She turned in his arms, smiling brightly, and opened her mouth to say something but he kissed her instead. Her arms instantly wrapped around his neck and she pulled herself into him, mouth seeking his as hungrily as he sought hers. He felt his blood rushing to his groin. Without any armor between them, he could feel how soft and curvy she was pressed up against him.

“I missed you,” she said against his mouth.

“Yeah, I can tell,” he teased her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His eyes dropped to her chest. He could see a bit of cleavage behind the loosely tied laces of her shift. “You got your heart back?”

“You aren’t going to just check for yourself?” she asked and he grinned as he reached up and wrapped his fingers around her ribcage under her left breast. He could feel her heart excitedly pounding against his palm. “You were such a liar,” she whispered, then added, “Sir.”

“Are you sassing me, kitten?” he asked, meeting her eyes. They were so clear, so strong.

“Maybe a little…”

His hand lifted to cup her breast, thumb gliding over her nipple. “Feeling brave, aren’t we…”

“I’m no longer your prisoner,” she reminded him, eyelashes fluttering with the sensation he gave her, “and now I’m _no one’s_ victim.” She reached up and touched his chest, the spot covering the hole where his heart used to be. “And you’re here,” she murmured, “so I know for sure…that you meant what you said. And I’m here…” She blushed. “So now you know…that I really want to be with you, too.”

“Yeah,” he growled and bent to kiss her, squeezing her breast as he pushed her up against a nearby column, trapping her body with his own so no one would see how he touched her.

She was right. Seven days had passed and they were still thinking of each other, still anticipating their reunion. They had come this far when all common sense told them to keep way from each other, were embracing when they had plenty of reasons to run in the opposite direction. But he had to be with her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, no one he wouldn’t kill for her. Of all his treasures—golden and silken and mastercrafted—she was the only one with any real value.

“Do you have a room?” Bright whispered and he had to bite his tongue before responding.

“Do you know what you’re asking me, kitten? If I take you there—”

“I know,” she assured him quietly.

Brash grabbed her hand and immediately pulled her along the street, ignoring those who bothered to glance over at them. He had had every intention of taking her to bed when they reunited but he had planned to control himself, move at her pace with…no small encouragement on his part. But if his kitten wanted to fuck him now, he would oblige her.

They crossed the inn’s common room and hurried up the stairs. Brash unlocked his room door and let her in. When he turned to her, she was taking in the space with wonder. It was one of the more luxurious rooms available in town, but still nothing compared to his accommodations at the palace. He watched her, admired the way the shift she wore hugged her torso, tied to her waist with two belts. She wore pants and boots—travel attire. And her hair was messy, like she had only just washed it after being released from prison.

He grinned, capturing some of her hair between his fingers. “Bad hair day?”

“Well…” Her expression was coy. “Someone took my only brush.”

Brash groaned. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed her by her cheeks, drew her face to his, and kissed her again.

They tangled together as Brash felt her up over her clothes before he took fistfuls of her shift, desperate to remove it. He managed to unbuckle the belts while kissing her but untying the laces was another thing entirely. Bright broke off the kiss and her nimble fingers began scrabbling with the laces while Brash easily tugged his tunic off. Too impatient to wait, he pushed her shift over her shoulders, exposing her slender collarbone and chest.

He buried his face in her neck, trailing wet kisses across her scar, suckling the hollow of her throat as he fiddled with the buttons on her pants. When he got them off, he squeezed her ass, pulling her against him. She clung to him, gasping with every touch, manhandled with no idea how to respond. She inhaled sharply when he pressed his groin against the hot sphere between her legs.

“Fuck, kitty girl,” Brash cursed, peeling her underwear off her hips. He immediately grabbed her ass again, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lifted her off her feet and held her against him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders. Her breath came in quivering gasps as his erection grinded against her cunt, warm and wet.

He carried her to the bed and dropped her. He quickly untied his pants, dropped them, and took a moment to admire her. The shift was still trapped around her abdomen but the rest of her was exposed. Her red hair was tousled around her face and shoulders, and her face was…so erotic, it seared his brain like a fucking brand.

He wanted to do so many things to her, taste so many parts of her, but his cock was throbbing with an urgency he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He had fantasized about this moment for weeks—in many locations and various stages of consent—and now it was impossible to think of anything but burying himself inside of her.

Brash crawled on top of her, cognizant of the alarm in her eyes when she lowered her gaze and caught a glimpse of his cock. He hoisted her up by her waist, holding her torso against him as his tip nudged her slick folds.

“Brash—”

“Don’t worry, kitten,” he rasped, mouth tracing a line across her chest to her throat. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Wait!”

He stilled at the sound of her voice, panting against her skin. She was scared—actually scared. He looked into her eyes even as his mind was screaming _Fuck!_ over and over again. “What is it?”

“I didn’t,” she said nervously. “I didn’t sleep with him. I—” She swallowed hard. “With anyone, I didn’t…”

Brash closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out slowly as he struggled to maintain control. Why was she telling him now—with his cock already pressed against her pussy—and not weeks ago when he really wanted to know? He had suspected she was innocent through and through, but knowing it was true was simultaneously fulfilling his favorite fantasy and painfully delaying it.

When he could manage it without risking his hips involuntarily thrusting forward, he kissed her. “Sorry, kitten, sweetheart…I wish there was another way…” She nodded, wide-eyed but still wanting. “Hold on to me.” She nodded again, wrapping her arms around him, fingers splayed over his skin. “Relax.”

Brash kissed her slowly, tasting her, devouring her until she was increasing the tempo on her own. He ran his cock over her slit to acquaint her with his size. She was so wet between her legs that it physically hurt to hold back. His breathing was ragged by the time he thought she was ready that it took every ounce of restraint he had not to plunge right in, straight to the hilt.

“Hold on to me,” he ground out and felt her stomach tighten. “Relax, sweetheart.”

And then he slipped inside, quickly enough to not prolong the pain but not so fast he created some of it. Instantly, his mind went blank and he lost his breath. The way she hugged him so tightly, hot and wet and—he groaned in the back of his throat. And Bright cried out in pain, fingers clawing his shoulders. Brash grunted, blood up with the mixture of pain and ecstasy, and had to brace himself with one hand on the headboard.

“Fuck, kitten,” he growled. He resisted the urge to slide out of her and back in, struggled to give her body the time it needed to adjust. There were pearls of tears on her lashes and it made him fucking crazy because he couldn’t feel any remorse for those tears, only a darker level of a desire. She had been innocent, such a good girl. And she was his, willingly his.

When she had calmed down, he set as slow a rhythm as he could manage under the circumstances, but it didn’t last long. Soon he was thrusting inside of her. His knees dug into the sheets, fingers bruising her with his grip, and the sound of her gasps and cries driving him harder and faster. He hiked her hips for deeper access, felt his whole body tensing up, and then her walls spasmed around him and he let go, mind whitening as his vision went blank and ecstasy shot through every nerve in his body, shattering him.

Brash nearly collapsed on top of her, still inside of her, panting. His whole body thrummed with pleasure. He looked at Bright, suddenly intensely aware of her, how she felt, if she was okay. Her eyes were glassy as they gazed up at him. She smiled ever so slightly, cheeks flushed red. He smirked at her, stomach tightening with something other than desire. Fuck, but he loved this girl. He kissed her then climbed off of her and helped her sit up. She looked so small, legs trembling, eyes wet. There was blood on the sheets so he brought his cloak out and wrapped her in it. With his desire sated, he only felt the urge to care for her.

He put on his pants, went down to call for a bath, and came back to rip the sheets off the bed. It didn’t take long for hot water to be brought up and then they washed together in comfortable silence. When they were finished, a fresh pair of sheets had been fitted on the bed. Bright dressed herself in one of his tunics and he only bothered with pants.

Brash admired her long legs and the way his tunic fell off her shoulder. She seemed to glow in the afternoon light streaming in through the windows. And her red hair caught the sun like fire and he had to hold his breath. Quietly, he took his golden hairbrush out of his bag and handed it to her.

She smiled at it but didn’t take it. “You do it,” she said and his eyebrows shot up. “Sir.” Then she sat on the bed with her back to him. Brash hesitated then sat behind her.

“Are you sure?” he asked and she nodded.

Brash carefully pulled the brush through her hair, too concerned with hurting her, and gently worked the tangles out. He combed his fingers through her tresses alongside the bristles, inhaling the scent of the soap they’d used. As he brushed the hair away from her face, he bent to kiss her exposed shoulder and neck, and she leaned back into him until he had his arm around her stomach, pulling her back against his chest. Just when he was wondering if she was ready for round two, she spoke.

“I’ve decided something.”

“Mmhm?” he grunted against her throat.

“We can’t run away together,” she said and he froze. “Not yet.”

He lifted his head to look at her. “Why the fuck not?”

She turned in his arms to face him directly. “Because right now, I’m a burden. You said so yourself. I don’t have any combat training and my power is more of a liability than an asset until I can use it without exhausting myself.”

“ _I’ll_ protect you,” he assured her. “Didn’t I already fucking tell you that?”

“You told me that I’m a target for Hunters. And if you leave Lord Mace now, he’s only going to come after us. You can’t fight everyone, Brash.”

“Who fucking says I can’t?” he growled and she smiled.

“How far will we have to go until we’re safe?”

“I don’t give a fuck how far it is. I’ll go wherever I have to.” He frowned. “What are you really saying, kitten? You had your fuck and now you’re done?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “Of course not. I can’t bear to be apart from you! This last week was hell. All I could think of was you—”

“Then shut the fuck up about it!” He grasped her face and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. She tried to say his name but he shoved his tongue into her mouth and silenced her. When she melted into his kisses, he felt himself calm down.

“I will go with you,” she assured him when he released her lips. “I promise, I will.”

“Good.”

“I just want to learn first.”

“Learn what?”

“How to fight. How to use my power.”

“I can teach you that,” he told her and kissed her again.

“While we’re on the run?”

“Yeah.” Another kiss.

“Brash!”

“What?” Another kiss. Wouldn’t she take the hint already? He was going to protect her no matter what. It wasn’t like he didn’t see the logic of what she was suggesting, just that it wasn’t going to fucking happen. “If I say I’ll teach you to fight, I will. If I tell you I’ll protect you, I fucking will. Got it?”

“Brash…”

“That’s _Sir_ Brash to you when you’re being a stubborn wench.”

She sighed. “You’re more stubborn than I am…” She was almost pouting. He grimaced. He couldn’t handle her pouts. They cut him to the bone. Not that she fucking knew or ever would—he would never be able to say no to her again.

“What is it, sweetheart? Why are you pushing so hard for this?”

“I…” She shrugged her exposed shoulder and stared at her fingers twisting together in her lap. “I don’t want to be your burden. I don’t want you to resent me if my inability puts us in a bad situation. I…” She finally looked up at him. “I don’t want you to regret it.”

Brash gazed at her with all the shock and wonder of the first time they had met and she asked him why he brought her a muffin. Didn’t she know how much she was worth? She was the most precious person in the world to him, a perfect kitten, his dream come true. Regret began and ended with betraying her, resentment aimed at himself for doing it, at Rivera for hurting her, at Mace for making him choose. But her? Never.

“Bright,” he murmured. “The last thing you could ever fucking be to me…is a burden.” He covered her hands still twisting nervously together. “If this is something you really want,” he said seriously, “then I’ll go back to Scarcewall and wait for you. But just know that the only thing that I want right now is to never let you out of my sight again.” He thought for a moment and then added, “And to bury my face in that silky pussy of yours.” Bright blushed dark red and Brash grinned. “So you should really stop arguing with me and just let me have my way.”

“Brash—” she gasped, looking away. He caught her chin and turned her to him as he bent over her.

“What did I say about that?”

She looked incredibly flustered as she said, “Sir…”

“And?” he pressed.

“You win,” she said, pouting, and he was so turned on he wanted her bite her lip. This girl was just so fucking perfect.

“Good kitten,” he growled, lowering her back to the bed. He dropped to his knees between her legs and pushed his tunic up to her stomach. He kissed a trail up her shivering thighs, inhaling the heady scent of her sex, and added as an afterthought, “Try to relax.”


End file.
